


If It Feels Like Paradise (Running Through Your Bloody Veins)

by ProbablyWastingTime



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, IVs, Past Child Abuse, Slight Dumbledore Bashing, St Mungo's Hospital, Trans Character, Trans Harry Potter, Trans Health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 09:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14186262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProbablyWastingTime/pseuds/ProbablyWastingTime
Summary: Harry wakes up in a bed. And it’s definitely not his bed; first he thinks it’s the hospital wing. But that doesn’t seem right. He wasn’t at Hogwarts, was he?No, he’d been at the Dursley’s. It was summer, June, and he’d been waiting around the house to hear something from Sirius about Voldemort’s apparent rise that spring and dodging his aunt and uncle’s attention.Which. Hadn’t been going well, to say the least. Between Harry’s nightmares and increasing frustration, Petunia’s endless list of chores, and Vernon’s temper, the summer had been going from bad to worse to much worse.Then Harry remembers something. A crack and pain. Choking and falling into the kitchen counter. A man shouting and a woman screaming and –It’s gone. Lost into the pleasant floaty feeling that hasn’t faded as Harry woke. His head is filled with cotton wool, but he’s not worried, it’s like floating inside a cloud.





	If It Feels Like Paradise (Running Through Your Bloody Veins)

**Author's Note:**

> heyyo, its been two years since i last posted a fic but I've come back from my grave with a short fic heavy on the hurt/comfort. Also Harry is trans bcs I say so.  
> Warnings for: very recent past child abuse (the Dursleys) and general trans issues relating to health and health care. Let me know if I need anything else!

Harry wakes up in a bed. And it’s definitely not his bed; first he thinks it’s the hospital wing. But that doesn’t seem right. He wasn’t at Hogwarts, was he?

No, he’d been at the Dursley’s. It was summer, June, and he’d been waiting around the house to hear something from Sirius about Voldemort’s apparent rise that spring and dodging his aunt and uncle’s attention.

Which. Hadn’t been going well, to say the least. Between Harry’s nightmares and increasing frustration, Petunia’s endless list of chores, and Vernon’s temper, the summer had been going from bad to worse to much worse.

Then Harry remembers something. A crack and pain. Choking and falling into the kitchen counter. A man shouting and a woman screaming and –

It’s gone. Lost into the pleasant floaty feeling that hasn’t faded as Harry woke. His head is filled with cotton wool, but he’s not worried, it’s like floating inside a cloud.

The door to the room opens and through blurry vision (glasses. His glasses are gone. Did he take them off?) Harry sees a woman in green robes. She has blonde hair in a tight knot, bright red lips and her wand already in her hand.

She smiles when she sees him. “Heya Harry,” she says. “It’s good to see you awake. I’m just going to check you over, okay?” She’s soft and cheery and waits for Harry to nod blearily before she does anything.

The healer waves her wand over him and a purple glow spreads above Harry. The witch pokes it in a few different places, causing different colours to ripple through the aura.

“Looking good. I’m sure you want to get back to sleep, but just in case; if you need anything just hit that button right there,” she gestures to a small box on the bedside table, “and someone will be with you. Your godfather had to step out, but he’ll be back soon, okay?”

Harry wants to ask what the hell is going on, but the woman’s right and by the time she is stepping back to the door, Harry is drifting off.

 

The next time Harry wakes is to the ghost of a fist hitting his stomach and low murmurs in the room. He feels breathless, thinks he was dreaming but he can’t remember it.

The voices stop talking and someone moves forward, but Harry involuntarily flinches away, shifting to the other side of the bed. The figure stops, takes a steadying breath.

“Oh Harry,” they say.

Harry pushes himself up at the voice. “Sirius!?” he says, before a wave of dizziness takes over. He presses a hand over his eyes and groans.

Arms circle around him, and Sirius is tucking Harry’s head under his chin, saying “I’ve got you kid, I got you.”

They sit like that for a while, Sirius gently stroking Harry’s arm, as Harry cries silently for some reason that seems just out of his grasp.

Eventually they both calm down, and someone else passes over a box of tissues and Harry’s glasses. That’s when Harry notices the second person in the room.

“Hi Professor,” He says, and Merlin his voice sounds rough.

“Really now Harry, I haven’t been a teacher for over a year,” Remus smiles, and Harry just shrugs.

The silence hangs for a few seconds, before Harry speaks in his raspy voice, “What are you doing here? Actually, what am _I_ doing here?”

Sirius and Remus exchange a Look over Harry’s head, holding a silent conversation. Eventually, Remus leans his arms on his knees, hands clasped together and asks, “Harry, do you remember… anything?”

Harry frowns. “Something. But, it doesn’t connect. I can’t work it out.”

Sirius squeezes Harry’s shoulders just a touch tighter. “That’s okay,” He says. “You set off alarms at the ministry, a bit of underage magic, but when someone came to the house they found you–“ Sirius cuts himself off with a choking sound.

Remus picks up for him. “They found you in a bit of a state,” he finishes, and Sirius huffs.

“They rushed you here, St Mungo’s, for emergency treatment.”

“Oh,” Harry says, a bit blankly. He examines what you can see of himself above the bed covers, realising that there is an IV line running into his forearm. “I feel okay.”

Sirius chuckles. “That’s because you’re dosed up to your eyeballs with pain potions,” he jokes.

Harry considers this. “Huh. How long was I out?”

“A few days. The healers put you in an induced coma while the worst of it healed.” Remus’ eyes are shinning as he blinks. “Harry, how did this happen.”

It feels like a boulder has been dumped on Harry’s chest. “It was just. Usual Dursley stuff. They took it a bit further I guess.” Sirius is breathing deeply, pulling Harry in closer to him again.

“Has this happened before?” Remus asks, trying to catch Harry’s eyes but his gaze is fixed on the floor.

“Urm. Not this bad?” and Harry knows that’s the wrong thing to say when Remus sighs.

Remus’ voice sounds so strained as he says, “why didn’t you tell anyone?”.

Harry almost doesn’t want to say it, but maybe Sirius is right, and all the potions have gone to his head, because he says, “Dumbledore knew.”

Remus freezes, hand pressed over his mouth. Abruptly, he stands and strides out the room, door slamming behind him. Even as Harry’s expecting the sound, it makes him jump.

Sirius starts petting his hair, whispering comfort over and over until Harry falls asleep.

 

Someone’s fiddling with the IV bags when Harry wakes with a start. The room is lit by soft light while the healer works, so it must be night. The man in green robes smiles and asks Harry how he’s feeling.

“Better,” is all he says.

The healer nods towards Sirius, sleeping sat up against the back of the bed. “He must be relieved. That’s the first time I’ve seen him sleep since he got here.”

Something strikes Harry then. “How can he be here? I mean, Sirius was in hiding before all this.”

The healers smile softens. “He bargained for a trial and handed himself in. It all got rushed through, considering the situation, but turns out the poor guy was innocent all along.”

Harry doesn’t have anything to say to that, just thinks about the incredible risk Sirius took, for him.

The wizard finishes up changing the bags of potions and packs up his cart. “You hungry? I could get you some ice cream, would help your throat as well.”

Harry nods, “Yes, please.”

With a small bowl of ice cream, Harry sits up in bed, careful not to disturb Sirius and thinks. He wonders what will happen now – he has to go back to the Dursley’s for the protection of the blood wards, but he can’t imagine them accepting him back into their home. Sirius is probably set on keeping Harry with him after everything that’s happened. And Remus had disappeared to presumably hash things out with Dumbledore.

Remus comes back some time later, as Harry is sitting with his head resting on a bent knee. He closes the door softly and takes up one of the seats by the bed.

“You okay?” Harry asks.

Remus smiles tiredly. “I should be asking you that,” he says. “But yes, I’m fine.”

“Where did you go?”

He sighs. “I was sorting some things out. There’s suddenly a lot of people interested in you.”

Harry snorts. “Isn’t there always?”

“This is different, now. The ministry wants social workers involved, the Dursley’s have been arrested. A lot has happened while you were sleeping.

“Speaking of, shouldn’t you be asleep right now?” Remus quirks a smile.

“I’ve slept for the past four days.”

“Still, you need the rest,” Remus says. “But if you’re feeling up to it, we could take a walk around the ward.”

Harry jumps at the chance, and soon Remus has helped him up and is pushing the IV pole along beside them. The hospital corridors are quiet in the night, and the healer who was in the room earlier greats them with a smile.

Harry swears he can feel it coming when Remus decides to talk. “You said this was ‘usual Dursley stuff’. What does that mean?”

Harry chews on his lip before speaking. “I’ve never made it a secret that they don’t like me. They hate magic, they hate my skin, and they hate that I’m trans. I was forced to be in there home and I was punished for it.”

“So, this has been going on for a long time?” They stop to sit in some chairs by the side of the hallway.

“For as long as I can remember. Just, it’s never been _that_ bad,” Harry says.

Remus frowns. “Did something happen? That day I mean, to make it worse.”

“We were arguing. It was name calling, mostly, but then they said –“ Harry stops to take a deep breath, “they said even my parents would be disgusted by me.” His voice is tight with a bitter smile.

Remus isn’t Sirius, so he doesn’t hug Harry, or put his arm around him; but he does put a hand lightly on his shoulder and says softly, “you know that’s not true.”

“I know, but it’s constant. And being at Hogwarts is great, but it just feels so much worse to be back there again every summer.” Harry blinks and tears fall down his cheeks.

“You aren’t going back, never again. Sirius has made sure of that.”

And despite everything, Harry really wants to believe that.

 

Sirius sleeps like that dead until late morning, whilst Harry naps on and off and finally gets to shower. He has to be careful with the IV still in his arm, and his reflection makes his stomach roll but it feels good to be under the hot water.

Apparently, he’d looked much worse a few days ago, but he still has a clear handprint around his throat and a bright bruise on his cheek. His ribs are sore as well, littered with purple blotches that carry on down his arms. It’s a mess, but not completely unfamiliar.

Back in his room and dressed once again in soft pyjamas, a healer talks them all through potions Harry has to take when he’s discharged and the bruise salve he should use. She then ushers Sirius and Remus to talk to Harry alone.

“I wanted to talk to you privately about this. You see, with all the potions you’ll be taking over the next few weeks, you won’t be able to take a hormone suppressor. They just don’t mix well.”

Harry goes cold. “No,” is all he can say.

The healer at least looks sympathetic. “I really am sorry but it’s just not healthy. After the trauma you’ve just faced, I must recommend taking the potions I’ve prescribed and taking a break from the suppressor.”

Harry is so tired of crying already. “How long until I can take it again?”

“Five weeks, then I’m happy for you to go back on it,” The healer says, then pauses. “You may get a period in this time, and you can take the standard pain relief but nothing else, okay?”

Harry nods, pressing his lips together.

The healer asks if he wants her to explain this to Sirius and Remus and Harry nods again, cheeks tinging pink.

He’s alone long enough to collect himself, whip the tears away even if they refuse to stop falling.

Sirius comes back in and makes a beeline for Harry, collecting him in another hug. “I know I sound like a broken record, but it really is going to be okay,” he says.

 

The next person to come is the social worker, who also kicks Sirius and Remus out of the room for a chat.

She introduces herself as Corina Maywood (‘call me Cory’). She asks if he’s okay going home with Sirius, if he likes school, if he has anything he wants her to know?

It reminds him of a meeting he’d had, when he was eight and someone at primary school was concerned with the bruises on his arm. He’d lied through his teeth then.

They talk for a while, Cory makes an action plan with Harry’s input that includes follow up meetings and visits with a councilor. “And remember, if you’re not happy, if something goes wrong, if you need _anything_ , you can just owl me and I’ll be there.” Harry thinks this might be the first time he’s had actual adults he can rely on.


End file.
